


Helper

by alienchrist



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Conversations, F/M, M/M, Post-Coital, Shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienchrist/pseuds/alienchrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isabela discovers evidence that Fenris might have a crush - and that it might be returned. She takes it upon herself to push things along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Helper

Neither Fenris nor Isabela were much for pillow talk. Instead it was reaching-for-bottles-of-wine talk, getting-up-to-stoke-the-fire talk, move-I’m-getting-a-cramp talk, killing-time-before-we-go-another-round talk. While they never explicitly said it, neither was keen to stay the night, nor have the other in their private space for very long. They didn’t do much bathing in the afterglow. They functioned comfortably that way, communicating without announcement of whimsies or boring stories about who they met at the market buying cheese. Even an arm around a bare back could be too stifling at times. There was no need to play at unnecessary conversation.

It was a surprise when Isabela asked about Sebastian. She did it as she was picking her way through the forest of bottles in Fenris’s room, trying to find the half-full bottle they’d carelessly cast aside earlier that evening. She found a book called _Select Verses of the Chant of Light_ , full of lovingly rendered, colorful illustrations, clearly intended for children in its message and simplicity. It was well-worn.

“Do you have a little crush on Sebastian?” she asked. She turned around to get a good look at Fenris’s face when she asked. Her inquiry and posture played at being coquettishly innocent, but the firelight told another story, painting the bold curves of her hips and breasts before gleaming in her eyes.

Fenris regarded Isabela with both frank admiration and utter bewilderment: a combination that frequently came up in situations that involved Isabela naked. “I don’t know what you’re asking me.”

“You do, don’t you! That’s why you’re always stopping by the Chantry. Why he offered to hear your… _confessions_.”

Fenris decided it was his turn to take up the search for the lost wine bottle. He found himself suddenly needing it. “I know it may be hard for you to believe, but people do formulate friendships that don’t involve removing your clothes.”

“I know that,” Isabela chided in exasperation, “I didn’t ask if you had a crush on _Donnic_.”

Fenris made a grunt that was barely a reply, hoping Isabela would drop the thread of conversation due to his indifference. He sniffed at a bottle that was growing a rather healthy fuzz of mold at the bottom, frowned, and kicked it off to one corner.

“I think he likes you too.” A secret tugged the corner of Isabela’s mouth upward.

“He is as kind to me as he is to any other,” Fenris said, dismissive and annoyed. He was beginning to think the bottle was a loss, and he ought to escape to the basement to find them another. “I just happen to be the only one interested in talking about the Maker.”

“It’s always good to have a few hobbies in common just to get the ball rolling. But don’t you think you’ve waited long enough? You should let him know how you feel. He must be getting so frustrated, cloistered in the Chantry like that.”

“Sebastian is celibate.” Had the bottle rolled under the bed? It was too dark to tell. Fenris groped beneath it, hoping he hadn’t accidentally stashed a sword there and drunkenly forgotten it.

“Most people are until they get laid.” Isabela had completely given up the pretense of looking for the bottle. She sat at the table, thumbing through _Select Verses_ in hopes that at least one illustration had some interest. Really, why didn’t they portray Andraste’s Maker-given beauty unhindered by clothes?

“He took a vow of chastity. He takes it quite seriously.” Fenris fished out some bloodied rags from beneath the bed, and a few dirty, stiff ones. He tossed them aside. No swords, no wine bottles, no luck.

“Yes, but you didn’t take any vows. I’m sure between the two of you there’s enough imagination to get around that.”

“You’re the one with the imagination. I don’t know why you’re so fascinated by the prospect of me with someone other than you.” Fenris’s voice was flat, irritated, but Isabela heard the unspoken questions in it, too.

“If I was the one with the chance at him, I’d take it without a second thought! It’s only fair for me to tell you if you’ve got a chance to do the same. You take forever to make the first move, and he could skip town without a day’s notice.”

Fenris rose, dusting off his knees before sitting back on the bed. “I know nothing of this chance, nor what I would do with it if I had it.”

Isabela hopped to her feet, carrying the book under one arm. She took her time to give Fenris a good look at her crouching to retrieve the half-full bottle from beneath the table. She’d spotted it early in her search. She handed it to Fenris, sitting beside him and carefully perching the book on her knees. Fenris took a small sip of the bottle before setting it carefully on the floor. Isabela opened the book, tracing her fingertips over the spidery, faded writing on the first page. It was elegant, overly ornamental style script, yet written with a somewhat unpracticed, unsteady hand.

“When he gave you this, did he tell you about the dedication?”

“No. He only told me he first learned the Chant through this very same book.” Fenris went abruptly quiet. “I cannot read it.”

Isabela read aloud in a sing-song voice. “ _Dear Seb, Happy Fourth Birthday. Walk in the Light of the Maker. Love, your brothers—_ ” Isabela squinted. “Well, you get the gist.”

Fenris stared, tracing the loops of calligraphy much as Isabela had. “I had no idea this was such a precious item.” He had not given the words in the front of the book much thought, in truth. Hawke, Varric and Aveline often brought him used books to peruse, since new ones were expensive and sometimes hard to come by. He had assumed Sebastian’s gift was a cast-off from the Chantry library, not a priceless family heirloom.

“I don’t think he’s ever given Hawke anything more than a headache,” Isabela pointed out.

Fenris continued to stare in shock. Isabela leaned over a little, bumping shoulders. “You should thank him tomorrow.”

“…I suppose I should…”

She planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “A word of advice? Those Chantries have a terrible problem with echoing. Just keep it in mind.”

Fenris gave one of his rare smiles. “Of course, I’ll remember that if we’re suddenly overwhelmed with lust and duck into a broom closet.”

“If it were up to me, you’d be doing it right on the altar for everyone to see.”

Fenris scoffed, “I’m not sure anyone but you would want to see that.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Fenris squeezed Isabela’s shoulder with one rough, callused hand. “Thank you.”

“You know me,” Isabela replied with a grin, “I’m a helper.”


End file.
